


Plagued

by Godsliltippy



Series: Protection and Development [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:42:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Godsliltippy/pseuds/Godsliltippy
Summary: Louie finds himself trapped on another adventure with his Uncle. He's not sure if he can get through the consequences that follow.





	Plagued

Time, boredom, sheer curiosity? Whatever it was, Louie was certain he needed to stop taking Uncle Scrooge up on his adventure propositions. Gold and treasure? Those were pretty motivating, but today offered very little of those prospects. This was strictly an exploration into the unknown. So, boredom was the most likely culprit for why he'd agreed to go. 

 

And also the reason he was now stuck on the other side of a cave wall; a trap left by the previous residents. He was also surrounded by complete, suffocating darkness. 

 

“Uncle Scrooge?” Louie didn't even try to conceal the tremor that shook his voice. 

 

“Hold tight, lad.” The elder duck called through the thick stone. “Launchpad and I'll have ye out in a jiffy.”

 

Whatever a ‘jiffy’ meant, it wasn't fast enough for the little duck's liking. Louie let his back slide down the wall, listening to the sound of the others trying to leverage it back up. He hoped they were looking for another option, seeing as this thing had to be impossibly heavy. 

 

His hand found its way into his pocket, grazing the hard case of his phone. He had it out a second later, its screen sending a gentle glow through the mostly barren room. It offered only a little comfort.

 

Then, something moved. 

 

It looked like a shadow and, for a moment, he thought it was his own, or just the rocks and debris that littered the room. Stress tended to make you see things that weren't really there. At least, that's what Huey had told him once, when they'd been creeping through some old catacombs. 

 

That didn't explain the hiss of breath that sent his feathers on end, his skin crawling. Could he be hearing things too? Was that a symptom of being scared out of your mind? 

 

Louie shivered against the wall, willing his quaking breaths to calm. His phone swept over the room again, trying to find - or not find - what he could have heard or seen. 

 

Nothing. 

 

He was alone. For once, that felt like a good thing and he almost laughed. When his screen darkened again, he reached forward to reactivate it, cursing the battery saver for its poor timing. 

 

Something wrapped around his wrist, halting his movement. His other hand lost its grip on the small device as it too was held in place. 

 

Louie was screaming before the phone clattered to the ground, calling for anyone to help even as he realized they wouldn't be able to get the door up in time. The cry died in a strangled gasp as the entity pushed against his chest, seeming to soak into his entire being. His mind faltered, a numb horror taking over as he felt himself losing control of his limbs, fingers that were no longer his flexing and sliding across the rocks. 

 

A dark laugh fell from his throat and Louie could feel the vicious glee this thing exuded within him. “Quit your struggles, child. You're mine now.” The voice didn't belong to him, but it bounced off the rough walls as the words fell from his beak. 

 

Louie felt himself moving again, bending down to retrieve something from the floor. His phone. When the voice spoke this time, it was like tendrils, worming their way into his brain, searching.  _ Tell me of this magic.  _ He barely had to think before the room was flooded with the phones light once more, a grin spreading over his face.  _ Very good. _

 

Crying would have been the correct response to the terror assaulting his senses, but his body wasn't his any more. He was reduced to a simple consciousness, viewing the world around him as his body made its way to stand on the other side of his prison. On the ground, lay a heep of skeletal remains, tattered rags of clothes long since decayed clinging to the bones. He watched as his hand disappeared into the chest, returning with a pouch held between hi fingers. The link seemed to work both ways as Louie realized the danger of what lay within. 

 

_ No! _ His small voice echoed in his head, drawing the entity's attention to his distress.

 

_ Oh, yes, little one.  _ It practically cackled with the implications.  _ This world will suffer my wrath, as it should have so many centuries ago. _

 

A plague. This thing wanted to release a plague on the world. Louie wasn't sure exactly what the bottle inside the pouch contained, but there was no denying the disturbed memories that flickered through his thoughts. So many dead. Test subjects of this monster.

 

Behind him, the wall began to move and he wanted to scream for it to stop. They couldn't let him out! But he couldn't stop it, even as his hand slipped the pouch into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He couldn't warn his uncle, even as the elder duck moved into the room before the door had finished its ascent into the ceiling.

 

He couldn't do anything.

 

OoOoOoO 

 

Scrooge wanted to shout for joy as his hand found the hidden release, but the last cry of his nephew was still reverberating in his ears. Panic was something he could cling to for speed, but he knew better than to let it take over completely as he ducked into the room ahead of Launchpad. He stopped the moment he found the boy standing on the other side of the room, a slight smile playing across his young face. Certainly not what he had expected.

 

“Hey! You did it!” Louie declared, nonchalantly shoving his hands and phone back in his pocket now that the torch was available.

 

“Are ye alright, lad?” There had been many occasions for Scrooge to ask the boys such a question and Louie's responses were usually filled with an anxious call to get out of the nightmare before something else tried to kill them. That wasn't what he was getting now. 

 

“Great, now that you two are here. Let's get outta this place.” And there it was, the answer he expected, but with none of the fear. He carefully let his train of thought slow, moving forward to halve the distance between them.

 

“Not so fast.” Scrooge's words were clipped as he caught the flicker of annoyance, turning to regard the contents of the room before the youth could leave. Call it experience with age or just luck that lead him to the conclusion that something was amiss, the elder duck knew they couldn't leave just yet. “I'd like to get a look at what ye found, since you're no worse for ware and all.” He was already eyeing the old jars and equipment, smashed beyond repair by fallen rocks. He easily found the skeleton, his heart sinking as he took in the ancient grecian fabric. A book lay next to the form, its pages dinghy and stiff as he lifted it open to a marked page. 

 

A curse. Possession. 

 

Anger was easily the first feeling to blossom through his chest, changing quickly to caution as Scrooge turned, book in hand, to find Louie staring at him, his expression cold. 

 

“Hmm. Neat book.” His nephew's voice was smooth. “What's it say?”

 

“S'a spell I've haven't seen in some time.” His eyes caught the flicker of Launchpad's torch, the pilot keeping an eye on the doorway in case it decided to come down again. “But I'm sure a learned scholar like yourself already knew that.”

 

“You sure you don't have me confused for Huey, Uncle?” The light chuckle sent a chill up his spine, reigniting the anger. 

 

“Nae.” His tone was a rumble as he continued. “I know exactly to whom I speak.”

 

Louie's eyes rolled with exasperation, a grin maring his face as he returned the glare. “Old fool. Too smart for your own good.”

 

“Let the boy go.” Scrooge felt the text drop, sending a wave of dust as it hit the ground. 

 

“Hmm, no. Although, a child wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.” The spirit extended the short arms, looking over them with a critical eye. “I'm finding him quite manageable.” 

 

Scrooge bit his tongue, desperate to keep hold of the situation. He had a fair understanding of what his nephew was going through and was quickly trying to form the plan necessary for his release. It all depended on what the entity wanted. Time to find out. 

 

“Ye do realize, ye won't be leavin’ with him.” He let the vague threat float between them. 

 

“And I don't believe you have much of a choice.” The young eyes narrowed. “You  _ will _ take me to my destination and not interfere with the task I've waited centuries to complete.”

 

“Our destination will be no choice of yours as long as I'm in command.” He gripped his cane, crossing his arms over his chest to emphasize his point. “We have no plane, no vehicle to get us off these ruins.” Another glance flickered to his pilot, grateful for his near predictable landings. No point making any of this easy. “There is only me. What I say goes and there will be no using my nephew to change that.”

 

The next few moments were expected, but it did little to lessen the ache. The narrow gaze quickly blinked away, replaced by wide, tearful eyes and Louie's breaths came out as frightened gasps. 

 

“U-uncle Scrooge?” His voice was a whisper as tears spilled down his cheeks. 

 

The elder's arms loosened just the slightest at seeing the terror passed over his nephew's face. This was a necessary evil the boy would hopefully surpass. He would make certain of that.

 

“Can't let him -” Louie's voice had suddenly taken on a hard edge of determination, willing himself to speak even as the spirit started to overwhelm him once more. “- leave!”

 

A burst of pride cast a warmth through the old duck's chest as he realized what his nephew had meant. No, he wouldn't let this thing leave, not while he still had the upper hand.

 

“Finished?” He growled as the entity's grin fell.

 

“I know you care for his safety.” Louie's voice bit back. “Do as I say!”

 

“I don't think so. See, all you are is a spirit in a vessel. Nothing special beyond the ability of controlling the body. You can't hurt him, because I won't let you.” Chess was not on his top list of games he enjoyed, but play it, he did. There were great mounds of knowledge to be had when playing a game of misdirection. Jab a pawn here, a rook to take a bishop, anger and frustrate your opponent until they open their weakest point and then take it. Scrooge saw it in the way his nephew's eye twitched, the corner of his mouth curling into a scowl. Check.

 

The entity continued to stare, letting it's eyes close for a brief moment. And then it smiled. Wicked and accompanied by a deep laugh, Scrooge found himself wondering what it was thinking.

 

“You, sir, oh, but that is quite amazing.” Louie laughed again. “All those riches!”

 

His eyes grew wide as he realised what the spirit had found inside his nephew's mind.  _ Good. _

 

“You're right.” The small hands had extracted themselves from the green hoodie, Louie now holding the old pouch, letting it swing gently in his grasp. “Leaving here would be next to impossible in this small form.” The entity regarded his vessel as if it were the completely wrong outfit to be caught wearing. The eyes shot up, piercing Scrooge with their gaze. “But you! With all that money and power! I will show the world the true meaning of fear and destruction!”

 

Scrooge's arms shot out as he watched the thick shadow pull away from Louie's body, the young duck crumpling to the ground with a shocked cry. The elder felt the being latch onto his forearms, trying to push its way into him, to control him. He could vaguely hear the call from his pilot who was now lifting the boy to his chest, eyes glued to the scene in front of him. 

 

Scrooge smiled.

 

Check mate.

 

With an intense flare of runes that ran the length of his cane, magical energy began to pulse over his body, an  echoey cry of pain bouncing through the room as the spirit found itself engulfed in the power of a protection ward. Flames jumped from its corporeal body, pulling away chunks of shadowy limbs. Scrooge simply watched it smolder away, sparks of burnt soul floating into the walls. 

 

And it was done. 

 

Only, it wasn't. Not yet, anyway, as he stepped quickly over to Launchpad, Louie trembling violently in his arms. Scrooge let his hand rest on the boy's head, gently running his fingers through the feathers. 

 

“Louie, lad?” He kept his voice soft. “It's gone, you're safe.”

 

The small hands found his jacket, twisting into the fabric as Louie pulled himself into Scrooge's arms. The elder stumbled back a step, surprised by the sudden shift, but quickly wrapped his arms around the shaking form, listening to the strained sobs. 

 

Without another word, he stepped through the doorway, Launchpad following close behind. By the time they arrived at the hidden temple's entrance, the tears had turned into soft hiccups, arms loosening around his uncle's neck. Scrooge came to a stop on a stone by the path they had used to gain access to the cursed place, adjusting the boy to sit on his knee.

 

“Come now, it's over.” Removing the arms from his neck, Scrooge gently pushed his nephew back, trying to get a good view of his face. “Are ye alright?”

 

Louie blinked, eyes rimmed with red as he regarded his uncle. They quickly went wide as something seemed to come back to the young duck. 

 

“Th-the bag! I-It - you have to - it's a plague! He was gonna kill s-so many people!” The trembling picked up again, his eyes frantically searching the area for the offending object. 

 

“Easy, lad. All taken care of.” Scrooge gave his jacket pocket a light tap. “We'll get it analyzed just to be sure. You just rest.” 

 

A haunted look flashed over the young duck's face as he stared at the slight lump and the elder wondered if there might be more that had yet to be discussed. 

 

Taking the boy's chin, he gently turned his gaze away from the hidden pouch. “Let's get you back home.”

 

Louie didn't resist as he was lifted once more, this time with the instruction to ride on his uncle's back. As much as Scrooge tried to prove his durability, he still felt the creeks in his knees as he got to his feet. 

 

OoOoOoO 

 

Scrooge hadn't been completely wrong about not having a plane. It had just taken a good part of an hour to get it running again. Louie had stayed quiet through the repairs, silently watching as he and Launchpad went about repairing the craft.

 

Now, the boy was curled up on his side, fast asleep. Scrooge's hand rested protectively on his shoulder, certain he wasn't going to let anything else near his charge any time soon.  

 

It was a surprising thing, having another life to value higher than your own. Of course, he knew there was no danger to himself. He'd made certain of that so many years ago he'd actually forgotten about it. Today had been the first time it had been truly tested on the field. Yes, it worked, but that didn't take away the buzzing thought in his head. He would absolutely trade himself to save his nephews. There would be no doubting that fact.

 

A hand slipped into his and Scrooge looked down to see Louie's half-lidded eyes staring out over the back of the plane. He gave the small hand a reassuring squeeze, watching his nephew blink away whatever was troubling him. 

 

After a long moment, a question drifted up. “What was that thing?” 

 

Scrooge sighed, not exactly sure if this was the right time to educate a traumatized child on the creature that attacked him. He deserved answers, though, so, with as much caution as he could, he answered. “Eidolone. A spirit that has the power to possess whomever it comes in contact with. It's gone, now.”

 

Louie let out a shuddering breath before he asked. “How?”

 

The cane that lay across his lap caught a glint of afternoon sun as it streamed through the window. His hand gripped just a bit tighter, wondering again if this was a conversation that could wait. Instead, he asked a question. “Lad, what's the one thing that never leaves your side?” The young duck turned his head to blink up at his uncle, the confusion obvious. “Just something you keep on you, I'd like to see.”

 

Hesitantly, Louie's other hand reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone that lay inside. Scrooge smiled, taking the device as it was handed to him. “Should'a guessed. Though I suspect this might change in the future, but for now.” He stood, giving the boy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he felt the tension build. “Just goin’ to grab something. It'll only be a moment.” He was certain Louie's eyes followed him as he moved to a supply locker, pilfering through it to find the small tool he needed and as promised, he was back in his seat in less than a minute. 

 

Scrooge stared at the phone. “How do ye take this off?” He gestured to the case surrounding the device. At this, Louie sat up, taking the phone and removing the case with fingers that didn't quite shake as much as they had a meer hour ago. When the elder took the two pieces back, he started in on the metal backing.

 

“Hey, what- you're scratching it!” Though the response was supposed to indicate the boys horror at seeing his prized possession vandalized, the energy was far too subdued, making Scrooge's task all that much easier.

 

“This- is a protection rune.” He held the phone out to show the single symbol carved into the metal. “Learned about them after I ran into something similar to what we did today.” He went back to carving another, receiving no further protests as he did. In total, there were four, each on a corner of the device. Once the case was snapped back on, he handed it to Louie. “I had forgotten until - well, you keep this on you and I promise that'll never happen again. Wish I had done it sooner.”

 

Louie didn't immediately place the phone back in his sweatshirt, choosing to hold it between his hands. He was so quiet, it sent an ache of guilt through the old duck. He  _ should _ have prepared them better. There were things out their worse than ghosts and spirits, and he hadn't shown them how to deal with any of it. That would change. As long as the boys continued to go on adventures, they would need to learn. 

 

Right now, he wasn't sure if Louie would go on another one again.

 

OoOoOoO 

 

Louie had dozed off for the third time on the flight back home, waking with a start as the remnants of a nightmare began to fade away. Uncle Scrooge still sat next to him, idly snoozing himself. His phone lay, nestled in his pocket. 

 

It was strange how a little thing like some carved letters had begun to loosen the knot in his stomach. The experience alone had been terrifying, trapped with the entity's thoughts mingling with his own. Images of a past life were still vivid when he closed his eyes, faces of victims probably left to rot in another part of the temple. But there was also his uncle, standing in front of him as the thing spoke using his voice. There was comfort in knowing the elder duck would never leave him. And now, he had just a bit more protection. 

 

So it wasn't surprising when they made it home and Louie slipped back into his lackadaisical habits, finding a place on the couch to watch some mindless TV. Scrooge had left him then, allowing for a little normalcy after a traumatic day. Dewey was the first to find him, taking the other side of the couch to watch along. Huey wasn't far behind with a few band aids dotting his forearms. Louie didn't ask, assuming his brothers had experienced their own type of adventures 

 

“Anything cool happen while you were out with Uncle Scrooge?” Dewey finally asked as the show broke for commercials. 

 

Louie could honestly say “Nope, not a thing.”

 

“Not even a new artifact or treasure?” In the middle, Huey looked a bit disappointed. Louie just shook his head. No point spilling the beans now when his gut was starting to twist again. He wasn't sure if he would be able to talk to them about it. Ever. 

 

Fingers wrapped around his phone, pulling it from his pocket and he could feel the true weight of it. There was a significance that overshadowed any of his previous feelings towards the device. And as he looked up to see his brothers returning their attention to the TV, he felt the sudden need for them to have the same. 

 

“Do me a favor.” Louie started, hoping to sound sincere when he knew his favors usually meant annoyance for the other two. “Go talk to Uncle Scrooge. He's got more for you than I do.”

 

Both boys’ eyes lit up at that prospect, leaping from the sofa to hunt down the elder duck. He realized they might question the reasoning for the runes, but Louie would rather keep his family safe. He would deal with his own feelings as they came. 

 

The door closed behind them, the brother left on the couch sinking further into the cushions. The door opened again before he could return his attention to his phone. Confused eyes lifted to see the new comer, surprised to find Uncle Donald standing in the doorway. 

 

“Hey, kiddo.” He shut the door behind him, but still didn't move towards the couch. It was obvious he was concerned. Louie wasn't sure why he hadn't expected his uncles to discuss what happened, but as their eyes met, he was grateful for it. “Can I sit?”

 

Louie nodded, sitting up to allow more room for the older duck. They remained in a tense silence, his uncle seeming unsure where to start and the boy realized it would be up to him. Words were still a problem, lodging in his throat as his mouth began to open. Instead, he simply leaned over, letting his head rest against his uncle's chest. An arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer, Donald's chin resting on top of his head. 

 

“Did Uncle Scrooge tell you,” Donald's voice was soft and hesitant. “Your mother went through the same thing when she was your age?”

 

“Really?” His voice came out a tight squeak.

 

With a nod, he continued. “Took us a lot longer to realize it, though. Almost an entire day. But the thing about Della, no one could quite match her enthusiasm. Uncle Scrooge took care of it as soon as he realized something was wrong.”

 

Another twist in his gut found his fingers clinging to his uncle's shirt. “Was she okay?”

 

Something in the memory must have been amusing as Donald let out a light chuckle. “Not immediately, no. It scared her. A lot.” Louie hadn't expected that, remembering stories of their mother being a fearless adventurer like their great-uncle. “But, afterwards, she started to get more informed, arming herself with what could happen. I'm not sure what all she found, but she got better.”

 

A wavering silence fell upon them as the young duck thought over the news. It was nice to hear that his mother had been able to cope, but…

 

“Louie.” His uncle broke the silence. “It's also okay to not be like your mom. Take all the time you need. Even if that means staying away from adventuring forever.”

 

He didn't answer immediately, letting the beat of his uncle's heart regulate his own. He wasn't alright and he understood that. It was nice to know Uncle Donald wouldn't push him if he wasn't ready. 

 

Louie finally settled with a quiet “thanks, Uncle Donald” and received a firm hug, the atmosphere calming to something more manageable. The two of them stayed on the couch, watching the cartoons drivel on with their exaggerated drama. This was okay. He could handle this. And maybe, given enough time, he could live up to his mother's legacy. Even just a little.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Weee! First ducktales fic :P still getting a feel of the characters, but this was fun to write! 
> 
> Hope yall enjoyed it!


End file.
